


I'm Not Sorry At All

by coyotestiptoe



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Practice Kissing, Scarcely implied High School AU, Teenage Derek, and because practicing kissing is an excellent trope, because I've had this in my documents for months
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2458757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coyotestiptoe/pseuds/coyotestiptoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe he had thought it was crazy at first, but the whole practice kissing thing wasn't such a bad idea after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not Sorry At All

**Author's Note:**

> A little no nothing erring on the side of completely self indulgent. A better writer would take this idea and develop it into the series it deserves, and if someone has please do point me in that direction.

They fall onto the floor at the foot of Stiles’ bed together, Derek knocking over Stiles’ empty cup and Stiles bracing himself with his hand. His eyes catch Derek’s through a drunken haze of awry judgment and excess nerves and Stiles can feel a subtle burning sensation from his carpet searing across the heel of his palm.

Their thighs, pressed together tightly and parallel, are unaccommodating as they twist their torsos to face one another. Derek looks only slightly apprehensive and Stiles shares in his nerves, burning off excess energy through a series of small twitches and movements that succeed his inability to stay still.

He props forward a little uncertainly and Derek does the same with a surge of determination, brushing his mouth over Stiles’ for no more than a handful of split seconds that Stiles determines as a fairly inaccurate example of Derek’s kissing abilities.

“Nah uh.” He makes a muffled hum of disapproval in the back of his throat and Derek draws back, having the audacity to look offended.

Unsympathetically Stiles declares, “That was terrible.”

He leans far enough forward that he can clasp his hand around the back of Derek’s neck and draw him in. “Like this,” Stiles says, edging closer and nudging their noses gently. Derek obligingly tilts his head as Stiles angles. Their mouths ghost against each other before falling together and Stiles fits Derek’s top lip between each of his own, eyes drawing shut as they find their momentum. Derek defers to Stiles’ better knowing about the time he feels Stiles’ tongue touch briefly to his bottom lip. 

“Much better,” he comments and Derek, a little slack jawed and breathless, agrees.

The second time Stiles licks into his mouth. His hands are firm and sure, holding Derek’s cheeks, his jaw. Derek’s hands are still tucked away inoffensively in his lap causing Stiles to complain that kissing, while primarily an exercise exclusive to mouths, is a full body experience.

“Why don’t you try letting your hands in on the fun?” he suggests. His eyes are bright and innocent and he wears a goofy grin so Derek turns his body to face Stiles’ more directly and grabs at his waist when they reach over their crossed legs to kiss again. Stiles, ever the eager participant, goes a step further and places his hands over the tight denim stretched over Derek’s thighs.

“This okay?” he murmurs and his words are a buzz against Derek’s lips, his fingers inching upwards to imply potential. Derek remarks his approval with a low growl, takes Stiles’ lip between his teeth and Stiles groans, his fingers digging uselessly into Derek’s jeans.

The next time they’re alone they move on from purely kissing and decide to explore the importance of hands and positions. It’s not enough to practice while they sit awkwardly together on the floor. Stiles needs to know how long is considered an acceptable amount of time to kiss vertically on a couch before pursuing things more horizontally and Derek really ought to know how to shift his hips just so. Plus it would be handy for each of them to practice the art of shirt removal mid make-out.

It’s all for the sake of self-confidence, they agree. So Derek works the flannel shirt Stiles is wearing off his shoulders while Stiles slips his fingers over Derek’s pulse, into the hair at the nape of his neck. He’s sitting in Derek’s lap, not quite aware of the way he’s rocking his hips until Derek’s hands shift, fingers pressing tightly to his hipbones.  
Stiles pulls their lips apart to sheepishly mutter ‘sorry,’ but Derek only snaps his teeth impatiently. He pulls Stiles closer and then his lips are on Stiles’ neck, treading new territory. Stiles barely has the presence of mind to ask “What are you doing?” as his head lulls back.

Derek just shrugs a shoulder, proposes, “I just thought…” because there’s a lot that can be done with clothes on that they haven’t explored yet.  
Stiles catches on quick, breathes out, “Oh.” Inhaling an embarrassingly shaky breath, he comments, “You’re getting good at the whole,” and has to pause when Derek’s teeth scrape against his pulse, his tongue immediately chasing the path of his teeth while Stiles’ sink into his bottom lip. “At the whole, uh, taking initiative thing.” He gesticulates with his hand, feels his lashes flutter in a way he’s glad Derek doesn’t see.

Derek buries a smirk in the crook of Stiles’ neck and presses his hips up.

Maybe he had thought it was crazy at first, but the whole practice kissing thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all.


End file.
